


Trickle Down

by eerian_sadow



Series: seasons of kink [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blood Play, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mentions of Sounding, Multi, Vulgar Language, Watersports, community: seasons of kink, mentions of large insertion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 06:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: In which Onslaught is the dominant with some interesting kinks and Vortex is the submissive who's into ALL of them. A series of tiny fics.





	Trickle Down

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever even considered writing watersports, let alone actually done it. I really hope that it's not garbage.
> 
> Written for seasonsofkink on DW, filling my body fluids prompt.

1\. The cuts in his plating had already been enough to overload him as Onslaught had dug the knife in deeply enough to draw energon. Watching as his commander dragged his spike through the deepest of them, slicking up with the fuel from Vortex’s lines was a level of kink he had never expected from the big mech.

“Frag yeah,” the flier hissed. “Frag me with my own energon!”

 

2\. He hadn’t really known what to expect when Onslaught strapped him to the low table in the playroom, but if he had given himself a moment to think about it, Vortex probably wouldn’t have been surprised when the other mech crouched over him and opened his his waste tank over his abdomen. 

“It’s a shame,” the Combaticon leader leaned over and whispered as the warm fluid splattered across his frame and onto the floor, “That you don't have a mouth so that we can do this properly.”

Vortex whimpered and wiggled his hips to encourage the liquid to flow into more of his seams.

 

3\. Megatron stepped into the room at Onslaught’s invitation and froze at the sight before him.

Vortex was chained to the floor, valve stretched around a false spike easily the width of his forearm. The flyer’s spike was extended and erect, with a sounding rod the size of the warlord’s finger stretching and plugging up its transfluid channel. His chest plates were spread wide, revealing his spark--though ti was safely covered by some sort of transparent sheeting. The silver mehc shivered when he realized that his usually-terrifying interrogator was also covered in dripping waste fluid and leaking energon from a cut on his throat.

Vortex’s head lolled to one side as Onslaught stood to one side, spike in hand and dripping the remains of the fluid covering the flyer. He looked as blissful as Megatron was confused.

“What is this, Onslaught?” The warlord asked, voice surprisingly even.

“He likes it when we use him like this.” The Combaticon leader turned to him, lips that Megatron hadn’t even realized he hid under his mask drawn into a smirk. “With a long enough stream, he’ll even overload for us.”

“Us?” Megatron arched a brow.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t even a little curious, now that you’ve seen him.”

The practice wasn’t something he was interested in indulging in normally, but Megatron found himself suddenly intrigued now that Onslaught had brought him in. At the very least, he wanted to see if Vortext really would overload from someone’s waste stream the way the Combaticon leader said.

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t.” Megatron let his plating retract and began engaging the routines that would evacuate his liquid waste through his spike. 

 

4\. Vortex nuzzled Skywarp’s spike, smearing transfluid across his visor as the Seeker’s stroked himself to completion. The black and purple mech growled and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him away from the over-sensitive tip.

He couldn’t suppress his smirk as his transfluid splattered in streaks across the usually pristine glass that hid the Combaticon’s optics. “Don’t move, shareware.”

“No sir.” Vortex froze in place, rotors trembling with arousal.

Skywarp’s smirk widened into a wicked smirk as he released his spike, wiping excess transfluid from the tip first, and then lifted his finger to the mess on the rotary’s face. Sloppily, he traced a glyph, and then another, in the mess before releasing the other mech’s head.

“Don’t move until it’s dry, shareware. I want everyone to know what a worthless slut Onslaught has on his leash.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. I don't know where most of this came from or why. This is not one of my kinks and I'm so far outside my comfort zone that it's nerve wracking. Please don't judge too harshly.


End file.
